


The rules and practices of creating time paradox and parallel universe

by Christywalks



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clint Needs a Hug, M/M, Sort of fix-it, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christywalks/pseuds/Christywalks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange intruder dropped into a 28 years old Phil Coulson's office from the air vent and declared to be a time traveler. Well working for S.H.I.E.L.D. did have its moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The rules and practices of creating time paradox and parallel universe

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [关于时间悖论以及平行宇宙的验证法则](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036659) by [Christywalks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christywalks/pseuds/Christywalks). 



> *This is a translation of my own Chinese fic. English is not my first language (or second), and I couldn't find a beta, so please forgive all those grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried.
> 
> *And I also sort of ignore the Avengers AOU movie. But anyway this fic sets before that.
> 
> *Plus this is my first fic in this fandom, so I'm terribly sorry for any other mistakes. Cheers
> 
> *And the most important, happy birthday Charlotte :)

 

 

 

Agent Phil Coulson put down his pen slowly and looked up at that air vent opening behind a square panel on the ceiling of his office. Actually Phil had already noticed those muffled noises in the vent about five minutes ago, but he didn’t get any infiltration warning, nor did he feel any immediate danger, so he just sat there and wondered curiously for a second then continued with his report which was due in two hours. But those noises were really getting louder and louder in the past five minutes, and the moment he finally looked up, the panel began to move. Phil knew that whoever or whatever in that air vent was going to make appearance really soon.

 

Phil’s right hand remained on the table while his left had already reached for his sidearm. Friendly incoming or not, Phil was never the one to be careless.

 

The air vent opening panel trembled quietly along with a much louder curse. Several seconds later a figure in black landed from the ceiling right in front of Phil’s desk and hissed, as if suffered from pain.

 

Well, when the figure found that gun pointed right in his face, he hissed again.

 

“Friendly. Hold your fire.”

 

Over his weapon Phil saw a man about forty-years old with both hands up in the air. He scanned him without turning an eyelash and made quick assessments in his mind: the intruder (he would just call him that before further information) dressed in an unrecognizable black sleeveless uniform with an empty quiver on his back, although the supposed matching bow was nowhere to be found; ugly bruises and scratches marred his bare skin and a really nasty wound on his left upper arm was still bleeding, so obviously the intruder was an active part of some violent situation not long ago; although his face was quite dirty, Phil could still see the hundred-percent sincerity in those blue-green eyes and his whole gesture shouted unconditional trust. But even so Phil had no intention of lowering his weapon, because he knew from experience that injured or not, this man could take him down as easily as breathing. Phil would never mistake that sense of danger from someone who had seen too much blood.

 

“Name? Intention? And how did you get into that vent?” Phil questioned harshly.

 

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secret Headquarter right?” The intruder said hoarsely, “And you are… Agent Phil Coulson.”

 

“It’s quite easy for someone not illiterate to read my name on my name card,” Phil answered dryly, “but you didn’t answer any of my questions. How do you know the name S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

 

The intruder didn’t say anything more than a grunt and rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine.” Phil’s right hand grabbed his communicator on the desk. “Since you have no intention of answering my questions, I’ll have to report your appearance to my superior officer.”

 

“Phil, Wait!”

 

That call of his name made the agent’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He took a deep breath and requested politely but dubiously, “Sorry, should we know each other? It’s obvious that we are on first-name bases here, but I have absolutely no idea who you are.”

 

“Your name is Phil Coulson, but only your family call you Pill, and your best friend, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. prefers the nickname ‘Cheese’.” There was no doubt that the intruder had noticed Phil’s freezed expression but didn't give a damn, “You are Captain America’s No.1 fan and devote your whole life to look up to him. Your biggest hobby is to collect items about the Captain. At this moment you only lack one of that whopping expensive set of Captain America Trading Cards. You used to have a girlfriend in college but she left and moved to Portland. You are very good at communication but hate socialization, and that’s one reason why you have so few friends in S.H.I.E.L.D. But anyone worked with you in ops knows that you are one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. got, because you are forever ready to sacrifice yourself for the sake of others. You sometimes quote from Mr. Spock that—”

 

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” Somehow Phil continued that sentence quite out of the blue. When he studied the man standing before him once again, he could suddenly see a thin layer of tears and uncontrollable sorrows in those blue-green eyes. Phil could almost swear that although he never met this man before, there was without doubt a strange connection between them, because those sorrows, they were because of him.

 

“Who…” Phil’s harshness turned soft beyond his self-control, “Who are you? Tell me your name.”

 

“Clint,” The corner of the man’s mouth quivered, “My name is Clint. I’m from your future, Phil.”

 

“That’s impossible.” Phil resisted his urge to stand up. “According to my knowledge there will still be more than half a century for human technology to build even the simplest time travel machine. I don’t expect that long a life span. Are you… are you one of my descendants?”

 

The man named Clint quivered his mouth again, but Phil could see this time it was because of something utterly amusing.

 

“Not that far. Only about twenty years in the future. You are close to thirty-years old now, right?”

 

Phil nodded. He just passed twenty-eight.

 

“Yeah I guess so. By the way, to prove my word, I got that missing Captain America Trading Card from your future collection with me.” The man signaled with his head  that he was going to put down one arm. After Phil agreed he reached down to one of his numerous zippers on the uniform, drew out a Trading Card sealed in PVC and handed over. Phil stared at that particular card which he had found and lost unaccountable times during live and online auctions. Word failed him.

 

“So…” After a few seconds he finally opened his mouth again, “This card belonged to a future me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Which means the future me is one card less.”

 

“But the now you have it, and the future you sure will have it too, right?”

 

“It’s a time paradox, you know that?”

 

An unreadable expression passed the man’s face. “Only you, Phil,” he said those words as if someone had punched him in the gut, “only you will say things like time paradox under this situation.”

 

To hear that close yet not quite right description of him made something in Phil’s chest tighten. He sighed and raised his right hand. The moment his fingers touched that card the man in weird uniform tumbled. Without his fast reflex to brace himself with Phil’s desk he would already be kneeling on the floor.

 

“You need medical treatment.” The gun was still in Phil’s hand, but already lowered.

 

“No, the last thing I need is to be sent to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s medical center then to the lab and get scanned and poked by a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists who’ll no doubt spend the next five years to try to find out how the hell did I get here. No, Phil, I don’t know how much time I have here, and I, uh, I have something very important to tell you.”

 

Phil’s gaze fastened first on his sincere eyes, then on his white knuckled on the edge of his desk.

 

“Okay.”

 

The man who called himself Clint gave Phil the first smile since he fell out of the air vent and collapsed on the floor. Phil stood on his toes and shook his head when he saw the man on the floor was clearly unconscious.

 

“Why can’t you just hold there a little bit longer until we reach my car?”

 

He sighed again and reached for his communicator. There was no way he could hand in this report in time.

 

***

 

Phil let Clint lie on his not at all comfortable hardwood flooring for two minutes while he requested a early leave from his S.O., Deputy Director Fury. (Well Nick was still not the Boss yet but everyone knew he only needed a form to accomplish that. Now this guy from the future made Phil even surer.) After everything was done he kneeled beside Clint and shook his shoulder gently. He didn’t miss the way Clint protected his left side when he fell, so he only touched his right shoulder. Even so faint traces of blood still left on his hand.

 

No matter whom he was, Clint was well trained. He only humped once after he was awoken and recognized Phil, then he stood up and let Phil carry him. There was still one hour from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s official off time, which meant there were a lot of people on the corridors. But Phil just walked pass them as if that injured man on his shoulder didn’t exist and made every nosy agents fall back with his most deadpanned facial expression and S.H.I.E.L.D.-famous stares. And all the way down to the garage Clint just pretended to be dead to the world. Or maybe not pretended to be, for he was unconscious again when Phil laid him on the front seat of his car. He now looked really terrible and vulnerable. The agent sighed and prayed for less troublesome traffic when he put his hand on the wheel.

 

They took nearly half an hour to get back to Phil’s cozy little apartment in the city. Phil, without a plausible reason and maybe lost his mind, did not wake up Clint again but tried to drag him up alone. To drag a man full of muscle from street level to his apartment door was definitely the best workout he had this year, so after opened the door with shaking hands Phil almost threw them both directly on the couch. Clint landed on his right side, grunted but still out. Phil stared at his chapped lips and pale cheeks and decided he would not let anyone die on his couch. So after catching his breath Phil got up and fetched the first-aid case from bathroom.

 

As Phil bent down and cleaned a scratch on his face with an alcohol swab Clint woke up. His eyelashes first trembled abruptly then pulled up to show two blue-green eyes full of warning and hostility. Phil quickly straightened his back and took two steps back. He waited for Clint to take in his surroundings with extreme cautious, but after a few seconds that look in Clint’s eyes changed to unbelievable and in the end settled on Phil. If Clint’s look really carried weight, Phil would be crumbling by now, so he cleared his throat and tried to break this uncomfortable silence.

 

“Well, how do you feel?”

 

The man just stared at him with his lips shut. After nearly a minute he finally answered, “Like shit.”

 

“Your wounds need to be treated, and if there are any bone fracture please let me know. I guess you won't go to a normal hospital either, so please allow me to practice some first-aid knowledge.”

 

“Nothing serious, I think.” Clint looked away at last. He frowned and touched his left side gently. “Other than two cracked ribs, I'm fine.”

 

“I can’t treat your broken ribs, but what about your lower limbs? I couldn’t help but noticed that you suffered from pain when you landed in my office.”

 

“Eh, sprained ankle? Really, I’m okay.”

 

“This isn't how I define fine, but I guess we all have different criteria. But clearly you also suffer from blood loss, except I don’t see any serious wound.”

 

“That was the souvenir from my last op. With all those attacks recently I just had to escape medical. I couldn't lie there and let—” He closed his mouth as quickly as he can and rubbed his forehead. “Look, Phil, I know you’ve got tons of questions to ask me, and I really appreciate you didn’t tell your S.O. about me, and if that Nick Fury is the one I know, he’ll definitely bust in here as soon as he learns my existence. These injuries, they are nothing, not even lethal. So would you please drag your ass on this couch and listen? I have very important things to tell you.”

 

“So long as you won’t faint on my couch with only half the conversation out.” Phil picked up the receiver on the coffee table, “So, we’ll talk, but after dinner. And I can treat your wounds when we wait for take-out.”

 

“Very efficient, sir.” Clint rolled his head on the back of the couch and snickered, but he instantly realized that he had slipped. Phil raised one eyebrow and watched him become even a shade whiter.

 

“So, I’m your superior. Are you also one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents?” He didn’t wait for an answer and made an order of two pizzas and one large coke. Someone needed all the sugar he could lay hands on. After that Phil settled down the phone and held his hands crossed in front of him. That was his best interrogating gesture.

 

“When we first met, you almost shocked me with all those personal information, and now I’d like to return that favor.” A muscle from Clint’s jaw jumped, but Phil chose to ignore and continued. “You are quite familiar with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s building structure and find my office without making a fuss, which means you’ve been there for some time; you know who I really am but call me ‘sir’, which means you are a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and my subordinate; judging from your cloth and weapon I’d say you are a special kind of field agent; and above all we have a more than normal work-related relationship, because not everyone pops up to say hi to his old boss after he travels back through time. So…” Phil gazed down into those blue-green eyes, “what do you want to tell me after going through such an unpleasant time travel?”

 

Clint squeezed his eyes shut in Phil’s inquisitorial look and took several deep breaths regardless of his ribs. “Phil, you have to understand, I’m trying to protect this timeline. I can’t tell you too much, otherwise the future may change. And I…I don’t like changes.”

 

“But you do want to tell me something about the future. You want to change one particular thing.”

 

“Yes.”

 

After that he was silent again, inner struggle and shame written all over his face. Phil sighed and stopped his interrogation. He took a new swab from the coffee table and began to treat Clint’s wounds gain. The distance between them was quite awkward, closer than total strangers but farther than intimate friends. Phil dealt all these with professional precision and gentleness, but Clint was all uptight like a bow ready to fire. Phil didn’t understand what was wrong with him at first, but when he glanced at that clenched fist resting by Clint’s thigh, he suddenly did.

 

He was throwing in all he had to stop himself from leaning into Phil’s touch.

 

“We…” Phil wrapped the bandage around Clint’s arm and chose his words cautiously, “Are we…?”

 

“You are my S.O. and I’m your best agent.” That was Clint’s quick and clear answer.

 

“But,” Phil frowned, and his question cut short by the ringing of the bell. He gave Clint a hard don’t-think-I’ll-let-this-go-easily look and went to answer the door. When he came back with the take-out Clint had already finished bandaging his arm and looked up blankly.

 

“Food first, talk later.” Phil laid the boxes on the table and handed Clint a large coke, “I believe you must be hungry.”

 

Hungry was not enough to describe Clint. He was famished, as if he hadn’t been eating all those twenty years. Phil only got to grabbed two slices before Clint cleared two boxes of twelve-inch pizza with god speed. After being fed he began playing with his drink, making all kinds of noises with his straw. This extremely childish behavior made Phil feel much older than this forty-or-so-years old man, who still was a child on the inside. But indeed, if Clint did come from twenty years in the future, Phil was about ten years older than him.

 

“So,” Phil tried to catch up their conversation before dinner, “about the future, what _can_ you tell me?”

 

Clint held tight on his drink and didn’t meet his eyes. After a while he answered slowly, “In twenty years the name S.H.I.E.L.D. will be much more appropriate than today. We stand firmly between Earth and…other dangers.”

 

“By other dangers you mean danger from other planets, species and realms?”

 

Clint narrowed his eyes and glanced at him. “Well I always know you are a sci-fi geek but this?”

 

“There’s a living proof of time travel siting right next to me, who claimed to come from twenty years in the future. The possibility of time travel means a lot of other possibilities.”

 

“Well, anyway, Earth in twenty years will be much more dangerous. And everything began with a battle in New York.”

 

“Just like the sci-fi movies, aliens wanted to conquer earth and they chose one of the most developed and populated metropolises on this planet to begin their attack. But somehow a group of mighty heroes defeated them?”

 

“Yeah, something like that.”

 

“But?” Story like this never lacked a cheesy tragic turn; even Phil understood life sometimes was indeed as bad as those movies.

 

“But…” Clint’s Adam’s apple bubbled and swallowed really hard. His right hand held his coke so tightly that he didn’t even realize the dark liquor was spilling all over his black uniform. He dropped his head, took several deep breaths again then turned his head toward Phil with such force that Phil almost feared he would break his neck. Phil was pinned on the couch with the piercing look from those blue-green eyes. He had never been looked upon by anyone with that kind of look, mixed with pain, anger, remorse, fear, and even pride and respect. Clint’s eyes shone so bright under the living room light. He looked into Phil as if his life depended on it and spoke quietly only at the edge of total collapse.

 

“You died.”

 

There was something so dark and cold stabbing through Phil’s chest and made him cover his heart reflexively. But this subconscious move made Clint’s look even sadder. He watched Phil with tears in his eyes and his whole body trembled silently.

 

“You died, Phil, you died even before this fucking battle officially began. But you died a hero. You faced an enemy thousands times mightier than you all by yourself and blew the shit out of him. And your death…your death was the deciding factor of our victory. Without your sacrifice, the entire population of earth would be wiped out by now.”

 

“So,” Phil felt a little numb when he opened his mouth, “that’s where the stain on the back of that Trading Card comes from.” Phil noticed the stain the moment Clint handed it to him. He had wondered that stain might be blood, but he never thought it was his.

 

“I stole this card out before they buried you. Because…this card was a present from me. I want something to remember you.”

 

“Must cost you a fortune.” Phil knew his behavior was nothing close to someone who had just been told that he only got twenty years to live. Well, he always knew that dying in a bed was a joke for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents since day one. Twenty years were way beyond his expectation. And to die like this, like the way Clint just described…The reason for Phil Coulson to choose S.H.I.E.L.D. was that he want to make a difference. Perhaps not a glamour entry in history book, but he always wanted his life to mean something. Even if his work at S.H.I.E.L.D. had only saved one more soul, then he would still be a step closer to his model and criterion, to the faith behind the name of Captain America.

 

“I spent all my payment from my first two years with S.H.I.E.L.D. and some of my personal savings. But Phil, I didn’t come here just to give you this card, and you still owed me an explanation.”

 

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” Phil repeated this line with a smile.

 

“I know, I understand, but there are still people out there who need _you_ , Phil.” The deep sorrow in Clint’s eyes was replaced by plead, and Phil could barely look directly into those emotional eyes. “Phil, I never mean to belittle your sacrifice, but you are one of the most important member of S.H.I.E.L.D. and of Aven—and you have so many important works left to be finished. And there are so many people who need you. I really hope you won’t die, I beg you not to go alone and face that fucking—”

 

Clint sucked a deep breath and shut his mouth, his last word mingled with air. He gazed at Phil for god knows how long, with one fist by his thigh and the other one on the couch. Phil stared into those mountain-moving eyes and reached across the distance between them. Tentatively, he touched Clint’s white knuckles with his fingertips and felt the rough yet warm skin under his pads. He didn’t give Clint any time to reject but swam his fingers up to his wrist until there was nothing but thin air between their skins. Then he wrapped his hand around Clint’s fist as softly as he could.

 

“Talk to me, Clint,” He used this name for the first time since he heard it and tried not to be bothered by Clint’s shiver, “why it is so important to you that I should live?”

 

“Because you are—” After several attempts to withdraw his hand Clint suddenly turned his fist and held back tight with some unknown resolutions, “because for me you are the most important person in this whole goddamned universe.”

 

“So we are a couple?” Statement liked this usually made Phil want to run away in aversion, but not this time. This time Phil was simply curious. How could someone as capable and intense as Clint regard him with such a manner?

 

“No, Phil,” Clint shook his head slowly and firmly, “we are not a couple, because you are so much more than that. You are the first one in this world who believe me and trust me and show me kindness willingly. Just because of that, you are above all those lame definitions.”

 

Phil blinked. He could not believe he would have such a strong influence on anyone.

 

“Not only me, Phil, you have influenced so many of us. All those powerful people with a shitty history, even someone you’d never dream of. We’ve all been to your funeral and looked at the look on their face I knew any one of us would do everything we could to get you back. And I just wanted to kiss someone when this mission fell on my head.”

 

“How on earth can I…Tell me, how am I going to die?”

 

“You were…you were stabbed from behind with a spear which pierced directly through your heart. You died thirty seconds later.” Clint’s hand clenched onto Phil’s, but Phil could hardly feel the pain. That shadowy cold appeared once again in his chest and this time he knew it was from a unavoidable ending twenty years in the future.

 

“Phil, you have no idea how science and technology advanced in these twenty years and what our medical team from S.H.I.E.L.D. can achieve. We asked the doctors, they told us if that spear was two centimeters away from your heart, you’ll have about eighty percent chance of survival. You only need two centimeters. That’s all I want to tell you, Phil. Please, I beg you, when that day and that moment come, even twenty years later, remember what I told you today, remember the difference these two centimeters could make.”

 

Phil controlled his breath until it was evened while stroking Clint’s bruised knuckles. He then nodded slightly.

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Clint didn’t comment a word on this half-hearted promise, but he suddenly gave Phil an ear to ear smile and brightened the whole room. Phil widened his eyes unconsciously, and felt something rose again in his chest, but much more powerful and intense than that ghostly pain from a broken heart. But he didn’t say anything. He just let Clint hold tight on his hand until the injured and tired man fell into sleep once again.

 

Just as he tried to withdraw his hand and cleared the mess on the coffee table his communicator in the pocket of his suit jacket buzzed. Didn’t want to disturb the sleeping man on the couch, he took the device and walked into his bedroom as quickly and quietly as he could. The moment he pressed the connect button the voice of his old friend and boss boomed from the intercom.

 

“Cheese,” the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. roared, “I get two Strike Teams down your apartment and ready to rescue any second.”

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Of course Phil knew, he just needed a minute to deal with Nick.

 

“You were witnessed in accompany with a stranger, a possible intruder before you left the building this afternoon. Witnesses reported you two were physically close, the other guy looked pretty beaten but there was a possibility that you were coerced by force. I watched the footage from your office and found that mother-fucker get to your office through air vent, and no one in the whole damn base even recognized his existence. That pizza guy earlier was our agent; he said you were okay, so I held the Strike Team back. But it has been one damn hour and I need your sitrep.”

 

“I’m fine, Nick, thanks for asking?” This had to be the most touching thing Nick Fury had ever done for Phil, although it still made Phil’s head ache. “Listen, Nick, the situation is not what you think. I was not coerced. You’ve seen that footage; I’m the one with gun from start to end. He didn’t do anything to force me or harm me.”

 

“Even so, this asshole breached S.H.I.E.L.D.’s security perimeter. I’m sure as hell going to install CCTV and detector in air vents.”

 

“Wait, Nick, listen to me.” Phil rubbed his forehead. “He’s…he can’t be explained in a few words, but I promise he’s not enemy spy. He’s one of us.”

 

“I’ve never seen that dumb face in any of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

 

“Because he didn’t belong to this time frame…Gosh you are not going to believe me, but—”

 

Just as Phil scratched the back of head to come up with a plausible explanation, he heard two gentle knocks on the bedroom door and Clint poked his head in.

 

“Sorry to interrupt.” He pointed at the communicator in Phil’s hand. “Is that Fury?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Give me the phone, let me talk to him.”

 

Communicator in hand, mouth slightly open, Phil never felt this at loss. But Clint’s face was set and Nick on the line was also trying to fulfill his last name, so Phil made a decision and gave the communicator to Clint.

 

“Director Fury.” Clint greeted steadily.

 

“Thank you, but I’m still the Deputy.” Phil didn’t need the communicator up close to his ear to hear Nick’s voice. Clint raised his eyebrow quite dramatically and threw Phil a why-he-still-hasn’t-get-rid-of-his-boss look, which almost made him laugh. Then Clint blinked several times and apologized, to Phil.

 

“I’m sorry, but there are something I’d rather you don’t know, yet. Can I take this call in the living room?”

 

“No, you stay here, I’ll go out.” The curiosity at the bottom of Phil’s stomach was burning, but he chose to respect Clint’s suggestion and went outside. Just as he closed the door behind him, Phil thought he heard a string of numbers and alphabets, and it sounded like a personal security code.

 

Ten minutes later, when Clint came out from his bedroom Phil had already got rid of the pizza boxes and tissues. He took his communicator from Clint in silence and didn’t ask anything. Clint was also not in a hurry to tell him anything. He spoke only after settling himself on the couch comfortably.

 

“Strike Teams are gone, but Fury left two agents behind to watch over you.”

 

“I thought he’s going to send the Strike Team and arrest you any seconds now. You must be very persuasive.”

 

“I have something that I must tell him, because I know the future Fury knows, and the only way he can ever possibly know that is through me, in this time frame.”

 

“You do realize you have just created another time paradox.”

 

“You know, Phil, I don’t think I’m changing the timeline anymore. I’m creating a new parallel universe instead.” He paused and regarded Phil seriously. “I’m creating a universe where you can die an old man and die happily.”

 

“I, uh…” Phil was once again out of words because of Clint’s sincerity. He was speechless for quite some time and finally squeezed a smile out. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s nothing. It’s not even one thousands of what you have done for me.”

 

“Clint,” Phil shook his head, “it’s not me, it's the other me, me from another time frame or even a parallel universe. I haven’t met the real you yet. You are still out there somewhere doing things that have nothing to do with me, and I don’t even know your face.”

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll meet someday.” Clint smiled at him again, “I just can’t imagine a universe in which we didn’t meet.”

 

The conversation was falling out of Phil’s control, again. He changed it with a new topic before it got more dangerous.

 

“So tonight, do you want to sleep on the couch or the bed? Maybe the bed is better for you need to rest. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

 

“Phil, _this_ is something I _can_ tell you. I’ve spent so many nights on your couch and it’s really comfortable. I’ll sleep here.”

 

“Please don’t tell me I’m not going to buy a new couch in the whole twenty years.” Phil sighed wryly.

 

“It’s a perfectly comfortable couch; I really don’t see the need of replacing it.” Clint stretched out on the couch as he spoke and put a cushion under his head. “Okay, go and be busy with your beauty-sleep procedures. I can’t even order my eyes open. Night-night.”

 

“Goodnight, Clint.”

 

Phil stood there for some time before he went into the bathroom. When he emerged with dripping water on his hair, Clint had already been snoring on the couch, and Phil couldn’t help but smile fondly at this scene.

 

***

 

Phil was awoken by the familiar buzzing of his communicator. When he sat up abruptly it was still dark outside. The clock on his nightstand suggested it was about ten minutes to five. Phil grabbed his communicator, answering it while looking for his slippers under his bed.

 

“Coulson.”

 

“We got a situation. There’s an anomaly appeared about three miles west of our Headquarter and needed to be dealt with. I want you there.”

 

“Understood. Give me the coordinates and I’ll be there.”

 

“With your house guest.”

 

“What, Clint? Why must he—”

 

“Preliminary scan suggests it’s time-sensitive. If what he told me yesterday was true, that’s what sent him here in the first place.”

 

“So it means Clint can get back to his own time frame?”

 

“You better ask him what that thing can do other than time travel on your way here.” With that Fury cut his communication. Phil let out a really long sigh and put on his suit in a rather amazing speed, then rushed out of the bedroom. Clint had already sat up and looked sharp, except for the right side of his hair was totally ruffled by sleep.

 

“The portal appeared?”

 

“The anomaly is a portal?―Wait, save it for the drive.” Phil rubbed his eyes and turned into the bathroom. When he grabbed a slightly limping Clint and a bar of Snickers down the stairs it was just past five o’clock.

 

“I never told you how I got here.” Clint said when the car drove down the empty street in a killing speed.

 

“No. I’m all ears.”

 

“All in all, after the battle of New York Earth was forced to open up to a whole bunch of planets and realms, and the number of aliens coming to Earth increases day by day. Before I came here, me and my team were dealing with another alien invasion right around the location of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s old Headquarter. The battle went on and on for almost a week and everyone was really tired. Then one day our genius inventor on the team detected that the one-way portal to Earth suddenly opened up both ways. Of course Captain, uh, our captain thought it was too dangerous to go without further knowledge, but the alien member of our team saw it as a great opportunity to and I quote, ‘claim our triumph and make the enemies’ souls quiver beneath our feet’. Sorry about the dramatic element. Anyway just as we argued there was a huge wave of aliens coming through and we had to drop the topic and kill them, together. During the fight I, as a less mobile member of the team, got tangled with some aliens and fell through the portal.”

 

“Like Alice fell through the rabbit hole.” Phil said with a deadpanned look but an amusing tone. “Sorry, just really want to use this metaphor.”

 

“Ha ha, funny. Anyway our team genius told us from the start that this portal was a transmitting device through time and space, and was theoretically controlled by telepathy. When I fell in I thought it was all over, I was going to rot on some alien planet and never had the chance to go back to Earth again, so my mind became quite focused. You know, ‘your life will be played before your eyes’ that kind of thing. And I realized I wanted to see you one last time, no matter what the cost. Then suddenly I was here, right where I left but there was no battle and the lady walked passed me dressed like she was still in the nineties. But I soon found out it was me who was in the nineties. The rest you knew already. I tried my best to break into S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarter and sneaked into your office. But I was a bit surprised you never change your office.”

 

“I like the location of that office, and the lightning is perfect.” Phil answered quietly. He tried to analyze Clint’s explanation in his head but felt his brain was on strike again. Clint had a real near-death experience, and the only thought of his before he died was—him. Phil always considered himself a mediocre fellow. He outstood nothing with his look, his personality, his knowledge or his family. But there was someone, who would do anything just to see him again…That was too much out of control for Phil to even feel threatened.

 

And he knew how his heart worked. If their entanglement would make Clint harbor feelings like this, there was no way that he could…Phil shook his head harshly and cleared his thought. All of this would happen in the future, and it was absurd for him to try to control something before it even happened. Right now he need to face a portal that would sent extraterrestrial invasion forces to his planet with almost zero preparation and means of defense, and he also got a stranded time traveler beside him. He needed his hundred percent focus.

 

They didn’t say anything more for the rest of the ride. When still half a mile from the coordinates Phil could already see a bright spot right in front of him, and as they came closer, the spot gradually became a two-meter tall and three-meter wide portal in an eerie purple glow. It was already surrounded by agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Strike Teams, plus there were four over Level Six agents on site. As a mere Level Three agent Phil had no authority here, but when Clint got out of the car eyes turned right toward him.

 

“Agents.” Clint greeted warmly. Phil had no doubt he knew all their names.

 

“Agent Coulson,” the leading agent, Schweiger, faced toward him, “Deputy Director Fury said that this man you brought with can provide vital information concerning the anomaly.”

 

“Sure he can.” Clint cut in smoothly. “This is a device from an alien civilization, and without all those technobabbles it is really  just a portal through time and space. Well it’s quiet now, but when activated, millions of alien soldiers will march out of that portal and invade earth. With all due respect, agent, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s weapon in this time frame really sucks. There’s nothing you can do to stop this invasion.”

 

“How can you prove what you say is true, not some pretty made-up lies?” Schweiger narrowed his eyes and asked darkly. It was obvious he was not used to somebody without a rank to talk to him like that.

 

“I don’t care you believe it or not, but I know from all those information that S.H.I.E.L.D. gathered over the years you can find nothing about this portal. Believe me, we tried. You have no idea what the hell it is and what it can do. So, Agent Schweiger, if you are half the smart-ass you want to make others believe I suggest you set up a meeting for me with some real knowledgeable people on site. I have some questions to ask.”

 

“Don’t you even dare—”

 

“Agent Schweiger,” Phil stepped forward and cut all those sour comments, “for the sake of the agents on site and civilians in the neighborhood, let him do what he want. Deputy Director Fury  trusts him, isn’t that enough?”

 

The senior agent threw him an icy cold stare but made the call. Phil glanced at Clint and found him grinning again. When their eyes made contact, Clint closed up with Phil and whispered, “You are so going to kick his ass in less than five years.” If not because of the all these agents on site and the grim situation, Phil might be laughing out right here.

 

Minutes later they were ordered to go to one of the vans near the portal, and Clint immediately began asking all kinds of question. As he busied himself with discussing scientific problems with the leading researchers, Phil watched his face turned from serious to relieved, then mixed with a mint of sorrow. His chest ached when he realized what was going to happen.

 

Just as Phil had feared, several minutes later Clint straightened himself and declared to the agents around him. When he spoke, his didn't look at Phil.

 

“I need the most powerful portable explosive that S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Schweiger asked the question Phil desperately wanted to know but had no courage to ask himself.

 

“I’m going to blow that fucking portal from the inside.” Word by word, Phil felt Clint’s answer like a string of heavy punches right into his gut.

 

“No.” Only after the strange looks from other agents on him did Phil realize that he had voiced the objection aloud. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “It’s too dangerous. The possibility of your survival is too slim to be measured. We can and will find another way to transport the bomb, you don’t need to do this—”

 

“God, Phil.” The man standing in front of him gave him a look that broke Phil’s heart. “I so want to record what you’ve said and play it for that you. If you could just think like this, you would never—”

 

“It’s different.” Phil felt his argue weak and pale. “This is suicide. I won’t let you—”

 

“It’s the same, Phil. ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one’, don’t you remember that?” Clint smiled at him and then became serious. “We don’t have much time. The first attack will come soon. My team had made all kinds of calculations and simulations and it’s feasible to blow the portal from the inside, we’ve just been arguing who should take that honor. And yes, we’ve tried using very intelligent robots, but without a true telepathy the portal rejected fiercely. So we need an intelligent life form to complete the task. And you have a perfect choice, me. I believe no one here knows who I am and cares about what’ll happen to me. So here’s the deal, you give me the bomb, I shut the door for you, sounds good?”

 

Phil opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, things like there was one person here who knew him and cared, but one stern look from Clint made him go silent. Around him agents like Schweiger had already been making calls and giving orders, but Phil felt like he was losing oxygen. He could not breathe. All the sounds and smells and colors and warmth of this world were disengaging rapidly around him. He never felt this tiny and useless.

 

But right at the next moment Clint walked through the stillness surrounded him and held Phil’s hand firmly into his.

 

“Don’t, just don’t feel sad for me, Phil. Someone have to do it, and you know this better than anybody.” Clint’s hand was warm and rough, and it felt like the only thing linked him to reality. “Come, you should think like this: What would Captain America do under this circumstance? He wouldn’t even say a word before rushing into that portal with the bomb and leave the safety to others. Right?”

 

“But Captain was dead. And Clint I really don’t want you—”

 

“Hey, have some hope in here. You’ll never know if the Captain will return one day, and maybe I’ll just save the world without even ruining my hair like those badass heroes in movies.”

 

“But that only happens in the movie.”

 

“Yeah, that’s too cliché, I don't like it.” Clint’s blue-green eyes gazed upon him softly, and for the first time Phil couldn’t find a single trace of sorrow in his eyes. All that had been left was relieved joy. “But Phil, I wish you remember that I come from the future, and your Clint is still out there waiting for you to find him. After you dig him out please don’t go soft because of me. I know what a shitty thing I was when I was young. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to make him a man who won’t let you down.”

 

“A man like you, for example?”

 

“Well if you _really_ like this version of me, suit yourself.” Clint grinned and squeezed his hand. During these short minutes of their conversation an explosive had already been transported on site. Schweiger walked toward him with a box in his hand.

 

“This is something Deputy Director Fury ordered from the secret vault. It is said to be one of Howard Stark’s many infamous inventions.”

 

Clint made a face and took the sealed box. Behind the lid there was a bulb thing with a twinkling orange glow and looked very unstable.

 

“Since it’s a Stark invention I won’t ask what exactly is it, but how does it work?”

 

“According to the Deputy Director,” Schweiger grimaced slightly, “it blows the fuck up and leaves nothing behind.”

 

“Oh _that_! I’ve heard once from Tony…well from someone about it. I get it.” Clint looked down at the glowing globe in his hand and nodded, “Leave it to me.”

 

So, just like that, without a tearful goodbye of parted ways or anguishing cry of a dying hero in the movies, Clint walked toward the portal as if he was going to a nice little restaurant. The instance he stopped in front of that portal those eerie purple lights lingering on the portal frame started to be absorbed by his body and dragged him into the doorway like an invisible hand.

 

“If your scientists wonder about what is happening to me, I can tell you that this portal can probably detect the tachyon particles in my body and is trying it best to eliminate the anomaly of this time frame, so that they can delete further threat to their attack.” Clint’s left foot was already disappearing into the light, but he still twisted his body and shouted quite energetically, “You are welcomed to record everything that’s happening to me and make some researches; it’ll be very useful in the future!”

 

He took one glance at the science team and then settled his eyes on Phil. His whole body was now devouring by the portal but he never even blinked to break the eye-contact. Right now those blue-green eyes were shaded by purple lights, but Phil could still read him perfectly as if they were face to face. Clint didn’t say anything, because he knew Phil understand. So Phil just smiled at him and nodded his head gently and solemnly for the one last time.

 

“Two centimeters.”

 

Clint whispered these two words and disappeared entirely into the portal.

 

Three seconds later the portal beamed out a blinding purple pulse and all the lights suddenly swirled into a wuthering tornado which roared and tumbled inside the opening, making everyone on site stay down. But this vanished as suddenly as it happened. Phil barely had time to get on his knees before everything came back to normal. In the center of that encirclement formed by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and vehicles there was not a trace of portal or anomaly; however that blue-green eyed man who smiled as brightly as sunshine leaking through dark clouds was also nowhere to be found.

 

Phil straightened himself slowly. The Captain America Trading Card in his inside jacket pocket made him really ache in the chest.

 

***

 

Five years from this time frame, Director Fury is going to throw a manila folder on Phil’s desk. In it Phil will find a file and a pursue and arrest order regarding a man with codename “Hawkeye”.

 

Twenty years from this time frame, when Phil’s being stabbed by Loki on the Helicarrier, he is going to dodge quite reflexively to his right. Although his heart is still going to stop for about forty seconds, he will survive in the end.

 

Twenty one years from this time frame in the parallel universe A, Agent Clint Barton, aka “Hawkeye” will be missing in a battle against an alien invasion and will be presumed dead in another six months.

 

Twenty one years from this time frame in the parallel universe B, Agent Coulson, who finally regains his health, will become the liaison between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers and will even get his own floor in that building.

 


End file.
